about the size of the smallest of Bellusdeo’s closets in the Palace. The floors were covered by a rug that had seen better decades, and the boards made a lot of noise. To Kaylin, this was familiar and almost comforting. There were windows; they were glassless, but shuttered—and barred.
“Are the bars necessary?” Bellusdeo asked.
“They’re decorative, ma’am,” the landlord replied.
“Good. You won’t mind if we remove them, then. I don’t particularly like the idea of living in a cage.”
Emmerian turned to the landlord before he could reply. “Would it be permissible to make alterations to these rooms and the hallways themselves?”
This was not a question to ask a landlord who was looking less eager by the passing second. If Emmerian had been anything other than a Dragon, Kaylin would have stepped, hard, on his foot.
“What kind of alterations?” was the entirely reasonable response.
“They would be both physical and magical in nature. You clearly have rudimentary mirror grids within the building, but we would require something with a little more power. The windows would have to be changed; we would install glass—at our expense, of course. Are the rooms above this one currently occupied?”
“Yes.”
“If we take this room, we would require it. For the sake of safety, we would also require the room directly below.” Emmerian held up a hand before the man—whose mouth had compressed into a line that sort of matched his narrowed eyes—could interrupt. “We would, of course, be willing to double your current rents. Or possibly triple.” It was the only thing the Dragon Lord had said that might possibly appeal to a landlord, but given the pinched expression on this one’s face, it didn’t appeal enough.
A thought struck Kaylin in the deepening gloom. “I’m not willing to pay triple the rent for these rooms—I can’t afford it, given what I’m paid.”
“No, of course not. We have agreed that we will not interfere materially with your living quarters.”
“And glass windows that practically scream out to enterprising thieves aren’t materially interfering?”
“No. They serve several functions, they increase security, and they add value to the building itself in the event that you choose to leave. The modifications will,” he added, turning once again to the landlord, “remain your property when Private Neya chooses to vacate these premises.”
When. Not if.
Kaylin could feel herself losing inches of height as Emmerian continued. This was possibly the most she’d heard him speak in one sitting, and she regretted the absence of his silence. The only thing worse was the shifting color of Bellusdeo’s eyes. They weren’t full-on red, but they were orange, and she’d dropped the inner membrane that muted their color.
And that, she thought, as she glanced at the pale man who was in theory a possible future landlord, was that. If he hadn’t recognized Bellusdeo for a Dragon upon introduction, he recognized her as something non-mortal, now. Kaylin exhaled. It was the sound of total defeat. “Could you two wait outside?”
When neither Dragon moved, she added, “Now?”
The landlord did not insist on seeing them out. He did fold his notably burly arms across his chest when they were quit of the empty rooms.
“Look, I’m sorry. I’m sorry they were so insulting,” Kaylin told him.
“Dragons, aren’t they?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re a Hawk.” He shrugged. “It’s a job. They always like that?”
“Normally? No. Worse. They don’t intend to be insulting—”
“But they think all mortals are money-grubbing merchants at heart.”
She had the grace to look guilty. “In Bellusdeo’s defense, she’s spent a couple of weeks with us on patrol in the Elani district.”
“So...fraudulent, money-grubbing merchants?” His lips twitched up at the corners. It was slight, but it was better than the frown that had taken up residence while Emmerian was talking.
“Caitlin wouldn’t have recommended the apartment if you were—if you weren’t... Can we just pretend I didn’t start that sentence?”
His grin spread. “It’s a bit of a pity,” he said. “I think I could live with you. I think I could live with...new-fangled enhancements. They’d probably have to do something about the floors.”
“But you can’t throw people out of their homes, even for three times the money.”
“No. Money’s tempting, and I wouldn’t get legal hassle for it—but, no.”
“I like you better for it,” Kaylin replied; it was true.
“Aye, well. If you’re looking to make a home, it’s a good trait—for you—in a landlord. Tell you what—if you lose the roommate, and the apartment’s still here, come back and we’ll talk.”
* * *
Emmerian and Bellusdeo were waiting in the carriage. The doors were closed. The windows, however, were slightly open, and Kaylin could hear Bellusdeo’s voice the moment she opened the external door. She guessed that orange eyes were now deeply orange, and had Severn been with her, she’d’ve bet on it.
He wasn’t, so she didn’t make money. Then again, he might not have taken the bet, because he had ears in his head.
Since she wasn’t feeling particularly charitable, she took her time walking to the carriage. She hoped Bellusdeo was figuratively chewing Emmerian’s head off—but she didn’t want the conversation to slide into native Dragon—not in the city streets. It would cause a panic, and she’d be at the center of it. Given the way things generally worked, Marcus would blame her.
If Marcus didn’t, the Lord of Swords probably would— because when people panicked in any number, it increased the workload of the Swords. The footman jumped off the little shelf at the back of the carriage as she approached the doors. She let him open them, and climbed into a carriage that fell immediately silent.
The small dragon whiffled.
“He didn’t mind a Dragon roommate,” Kaylin said, first up. “It was the crap that came with the roommate that he found objectionable. What were you thinking?”
Emmerian looked momentarily disconcerted.
“You can’t just demand that a landlord kick out two apartments full of people because you think you want rooms for your own purposes.”
“I made no demands.”
“They weren’t exactly requests, Emmerian.”
“They were. If the landlord did not wish to accommodate them, he was free to refuse to let the apartment.”
“Which he did.”
The Dragon implied a shrug without going through the down-market motion. “The modifications are not required should Bellusdeo choose to remain within the safety of the Imperial Palace. The measures are a compromise.”
Kaylin turned to Bellusdeo. “You agreed to this compromise?”
“Hardly. I agreed to live with some surveillance. Given your current life, I expected that it would be subtle.”
“My current life?”
“You are, as you well know, under Imperial Surveillance. I assumed that the security I would be offered would be of a similar variety.” Her eyes were getting redder by the syllable.
“I think,” Kaylin said quietly, “we’re done for the evening. I’ll mirror from the Palace and make my groveling apologies to the other two landlords.”